Whumptober: Day 23 - Bleeding Out
by Lif61
Summary: Castiel finds himself cornered by vampires, and there's nothing he can do. (Hurt/Comfort without the comfort.)


**A/N: Written for day 23 of Whumptober 2019.**

**Prompt: bleeding out**

**WARNINGS: This fic contains graphic depictions of violence, major character death, sexual harassment, manhandling, a vasovagal reaction, and vomiting.**

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"_Oomph!_" The air was knocked out of Castiel as an elbow jammed into his diaphragm and he was slammed against the rickety wall of the abandoned barn. Splinters scraped at the back of his head.

He was facing off against a vampire, and this particular one didn't have any questions. They'd gone through them already, and he'd quickly realized Castiel wouldn't give them any answers. Powered down, no angel blade, no Grace, just weak, fragile, human flesh, Castiel was so terrified his legs nearly felt numb. Sweat was building up under his arms, and he was ashamed that it might show through his shirt. He also worried that he might pee himself, and he still wasn't used to that human function.

Another vampire came up at his left as the one before him with the particularly sharp fangs that were much too close to his face put his leg on the outside of him, trapping him, essentially straddling him standing up. The other one slapped his cheek.

It was light, but unexpected, and Castiel always expected the enemy to hit hard. He whimpered, and flinched, making the vampires laugh.

"Wanna play with our food?" the one who'd hit him asked. "He's cute. Smells different too."

"I was an angel, you asshat!" Castiel declared, trying to think of an insult that Dean would use.

"Oh, we know. You're Dean's little pet. A good one too."

Another came up on his right, smelling him, and Castiel closed his eyes, lips trembling.

"Please, _please_ just let me go."

A tongue licked the muscle that connected his shoulder to his neck, and he shifted his feet, trying to get away, pushed out at the vampire holding him, but he shoved him back, and then grabbed his hair, and whacked his head against the wall of the barn several times. Dazed, Castiel grabbed onto his attacker, trying to stay on his feet. He then took him by the back of the neck, turned, and threw him to the floor littered with a few years' layer of dirty, and unused straw dust.

"An angel of the lord, huh?" One of them taunted. "Not so tough are you without your hunter? What's he up to, anyway? Last I heard he was taking a fucking vamp to bed. His taste run more toward blood? Because we can fix something up. Think he'd want three vamp dicks in him?"

Castiel rolled onto his side, furious tears in his eyes as he faced them, "Leave him alone."

The three of them laughed, and then they were grabbing Castiel, pressing him up against another wall.

Hands held him more tightly now, and before he knew what was going on, their fangs were out, and his shirt was coming off, the fabric ripped and torn. He begged, he pleaded, he tried to fight. But he hadn't eaten in a few days, and he just couldn't possibly do anything to save himself.

Fuck, was this what it was like to be one of the victims that Sam and Dean looked at?

Would they end up looking at his body in a morgue? Would they come across this case? A homeless man at six feet tall with blue eyes and dark hair who'd gotten murdered in a barn with supposed animal bites all over him, and no blood?

Would Dean pull back the sheet on his naked, lifeless body, see his face, and lose it? Or would it just be another case to him? Another job?

Was that all Castiel was?

A job? The angel who he'd had to listen to, the angel he'd needed, and now he'd discarded?

Teeth sunk into Castiel's flesh as hot panic swelled in his stomach, and he opened his mouth loud in a scream, back arching. More teeth found him, and his jaw hurt from how much he opened he parted his lips to try and get his voice out. His hands clenched, nails digging into his palms. He kicked with his feet, he struggled, but the vampires held him, even seemed to enjoy the struggle with him.

One went for his neck.

Castiel's stomach heaved, saliva came up in his throat, and his head spun. He was sweating, hot and cold at the same time. And oh, he couldn't see. He couldn't see! Why couldn't he see? There was pressure in his head, his chest, his lungs, he couldn't hear anything, just felt teeth tearing at him, hot blood spurting from his body, welling up on his skin, coating him in crimson. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, forgot that he even had any.

What was going on?

Were the vampires still there?

Castiel didn't know.

There was a retching sound, his body heaving, and then something very hard smacked the entire front of his body. It jolted him back just enough for him to get in a gasp. His vision was somewhat back, just a few hazy black spots floating around.

They'd dropped him, let him fall on the floor. His mouth was wet, had a sour taste in it, and there was a puddle of his sick nearby.

They made delighted sounds as Castiel lay there, not quite bleeding out as they soon rolled him over and began to lick up the blood.

He grew confused, the world hazy and uncertain around him as they hungrily tore at his skin, his veins, his arteries. His breathing was too slow, shallow, heart beat barely there. At first it'd been fast, panicked, his heart telling him something was wrong, but now it was too late. Everything was wrong, and nothing could stop this.

Castiel heaved again, nothing coming up this time. He lost his vision, his sound.

And it never came back.


End file.
